Читать книгу Secret Lives - Berthe Amoss - Страница 8
ОглавлениеHelp! Mable, hel-up, ’m ch-chokin’! May-ble! Tom, get that critter outta here!”
“I’m coming, Malvern!” Tom’s mother answered as Tom crashed through the hedge between our houses, tripped up my steps, and landed on the porch. He was clutching a mangy dog, even skinnier than he is.
“What in the world was your Uncle Malvern yelling about? That dog didn’t bite him, did it?”
“Pumpkin wouldn’t bite anybody! Uncle Malvern is allergic to dog hair. Stopped breathing when he saw Pumpkin—he says.”
“He can still yell pretty good. That is the skinniest dog I ever saw.”
“You’d be skinny, too, if the SPCA man had taken your mother away and gone after you with a net. Poor little Pumpkin.”
“Pumpkin? Why don’t you call her Ribs?”
Tom ignored the insult. “She’s almost the right color for a pumpkin, and Halloween’s coming,” he said. “Pumpkin’s so smart, she hid until the SPCA left. I crawled under the house and rescued her, huh, Pumpkin, old girl? I rescued you!”
“What are you going to do with her?”
“Addie, what would you do if somebody gave you a choice between what you want most in the whole world, but you had to leave home forever to have it, or, you could never have that one thing, but you could stay at home and have almost anything else?”
“Well, if all you want is that dog you’re holding, I wouldn’t bother to leave home, even though you have to put up with your uncle and his beer.”
“I don’t want to leave. But I will if I have to. Unless . . . unless . . .” Tom and Pumpkin were looking at me.
“Tom, I can’t keep that dog for you! Aunt Eveline would have a fit. And Aunt Kate! Why, Aunt Kate’d die right on the spot. Honest. I can not!”
I noticed Tom’s hair and freckles matched Pumpkin’s coat. There is definitely no resemblance between Tom and Edmond Hilary de St. Denis.
“Addie, just for a while! I’m right next door, and I’ll be the one really taking care of her—until I talk my mother into keeping her. I’ll do anything you want. What do you want most in the world?”
“You can’t give me what I want most in the world.”
“Aw, come on, Addie! Aunt Eveline will let you keep good old Pumpkin if you beg her. Just for a while.”
“No.”
“Well, Addie, so long, then! I’m leaving,” said Tom, not going. “Good-bye.”
I knew he was still working on me, but I didn’t want a mangy dog. Pumpkin didn’t look anything like my mother’s cute little Fifi.
“I’ll be seeing you, Addie.”
“That’s crazy. Where will you go?”
“North Carolina.”
“What’ll you do there?”
“Live there. With my dog.”
“Tom, your mother needs you to help with your uncle. Besides, Pumpkin isn’t all that great a dog.”
Tom’s freckles changed color and his mouth turned thin white.
“Now, Tom, I didn’t mean Pumpkin wasn’t a good dog!” Tom’s eyes were making holes right through me. “It’s just that I know what Aunt Eveline would say—”
“Good-bye, Addie.”
“Tom, now listen, Tom!”
Pumpkin let out a bark that sounded like good-bye.
“It’s been great knowing you,” Tom said.
“Wait, Tom!”
“Ah-de-la-eed!” Aunt Eveline was calling me. “Addie, dear!”
“Tom! Listen!” I was looking at the back of Tom with the back of Pumpkin tucked under his arm.
“Adelaide, when I call, please reply immediately. Addie, I want you to—”
“Aunt Eveline, what would you say if someone gave you a choice: you could keep me, but you had to keep something else you didn’t want besides; or, you’d lose me and you could have anything else in the whole world you want.”
“I only want you, dear.”
“You don’t want anything else? I thought you wanted my mother to be buried in Saint Louis #2.”
“I must be content with things as they are, dear.”
“Then, you’d choose me and the other thing you didn’t want besides?”
“I’d choose you above all else, dear, although I still nourish the hope that you will someday decide on a length for your bangs. Now, what I want you to do, Addie, is—”
“My bangs are almost grown out, Aunt Eveline, and I’m glad you want me above all things, because I do need this other thing to be happy and I’m pleased you’ve chosen it.”
“I was not aware of choosing this other thing. What is it?”
“I can have it, can’t I?”
“I’m sure you can, but perhaps you may not. What is it?”
“Oh, Aunt Eveline! It’s a matter of life or death! Can I—may I have a dog? A very small one. She’s smart and I promise I’ll take care of her.”
“A dog! Of course not! Absolutely not! Aunt Kate would—”
“I won’t let Pumpkin bother Aunt Kate. I promise!”
“Oh, Addie! How could you do that?”
“I’ll keep her in my room.”
“Inside?”
“I’ll keep her outside. In the shed! Oh, please, Aunt Eveline!”
“Oh, Addie!”
“My mother had a dog.”
“Fifi was sweet and very clean.”
“Pumpkin is sweet, too, Aunt Eveline.”
“Where is this dog?”
“I’ll get it! Oh, you’ll see! You’ll love Pumpkin! Tom! Hey, Tom! Wait! You don’t have to go to North Carolina! Taw-m!”
“Please, Adelaide! Don’t howl like a banshee!”
Pumpkin wasn’t exactly Fifi the Second, but maybe if I bathed her and fattened her up and Tom taught her a few tricks . . .
“Hey, Tom!” I ran down the street after Tom.
